


Trouble

by wrathwritesthings (leviathan_wrath)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Multi, One Shot, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Panty Raid, Reader-Insert, sfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 04:03:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11981739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leviathan_wrath/pseuds/wrathwritesthings
Summary: The bros want to pull a prank.





	Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> This was requested on tumblr. The request reads: _Panty Raid Anon~ I'm good with all 4 (the more the merrier, and that mental image makes me laugh, lol), and fem!reader if you don't mind. But you're all good, thank you very much :)_
> 
> This is just mindless SFW fluff. Chocobros x F!Reader. Sorry for the subpar writing.
> 
>  **Warnings:** Language, Second Hand Shame Kills, Anchor Your Furniture, Bad Writing, SFW

**Trouble**

Trouble can be defined many ways for different people. For Noct, it used to be shirking his duties and cutting class with Prompto to hit up the arcade. For Prom, it was getting the Crown Prince to do things he really, _really_ shouldn’t. But things have changed since high school. Those school days feel like they happened centuries ago to the guys. They were all more innocent then and things were so much simpler…

Which is why Prompto feels like he needs to shake things up for his best friend and redefine his definition of “trouble” as more than just fighting daemons and confronting magitek soldiers. Because to Prompto, trouble can be _fun_. The blond is upping the ante and Noct doesn’t know any better. Because who would think the cute blond dork could be capable of contriving such a nefarious plot?

Ignis immediately smells that something is afoot when the two pile into the car and Prom _doesn’t_ call shotgun but instead decides to sit in the backseat of the Regalia to whisper conspiratorially into the prince’s ear. The strategist cuts his emerald eyes to the bodyguard next to him, who is already giving him a displeased look as he settles into the passenger seat. Something’s up. And Prom is garbage at hiding that he’s scheming.

“Where are we going, Noct?” Iggy queries, staring fixedly at the prince in the rearview mirror, tone clipped. He’s already aggravated that the blond convinced the prince to hit the road so late at night. How much worse can things get?

“Quit it,” Noct hisses to a giggling Prom who has latched onto the prince’s arm and is still whispering evilly. “ _No_.”

“Hey,” Gladio rumbles, turning around in the passenger’s seat to shoot amber lasers at the two younger men, “just what the hell are you two doing?”

Noct shrugs off the grabby blond and huffs, cheeks just the slightest tinge of pink, “D’you think (y/n) is awake?”

Iggy squints at him in the rearview mirror. “It’s nearly midnight, Noct. I highly doubt she’s awake and even if she _is_ I doubt she would appreciate such a late visit.”

“Let’s just,” Noct can’t make eye-contact with his oldest friend, “swing by her place.”

The brunet takes his hands off of the wheel and crosses his arms over his chest. “For what purpose?”

“Yeah,” Gladdy squints, “why are you wantin' to bug (y/n)?”

When neither Noct nor Prompto hurries to answer, instead avoiding eye-contact or pretending to find the Regalia’s seats interesting, Ignis says primly, “Then I suppose we have no good reason to visit (y/n).”

“Oh, fine!” Prompto sighs, turning a million shades of red in the span of a second. “We’re going to…” and he promptly loses his nerve, not feeling quite as bold as before now that he’s under the united disapproving gaze of Ignis and Gladiolus and not just hissing deviously into the prince’s ear. Plus, now that he thinks about it, saying “We’re gonna go steal (y/n)’s panties!” might make him out to look pretty bad. Especially since he knows Gladdy and Iggy hold you in such high regard…

And since he carries a torch for you himself, he might come off as a huge weirdo who just wants to go and steal all of your panties and hoard them like some pervert dragon with a cave of stolen underwear rather than gold.  _Yeah_ … maybe he didn’t think this plan through. All he wanted was to get a rise out of Noct and now he’s smearing his own name in the process.

“Prompto wants to steal some of (y/n)’s underwear.”

Did lightning just strike? No. The night sky is clear, glimmering with stars. So what’s this strange feeling that befalls Prompto? Blood rushes so quickly to his head that he’s disoriented for a second, the sound of blood pumping in his ears all that he can hear. The blond slowly turns to the prince, mouth agape. So… _t_ _his_ is what it feels like to have your best friend in the whole world throw you under the metaphorical bus? Damn.

“I-I-! _No_! _I_ don’t want-!”

“Then why did _you_ suggest we drive to (y/n)’s home, pray tell?” Ignis pushes his glasses up the elegant slope of his nose, the light from the gas station reflecting off of his lenses. Prom feels like he might combust until Iggy adds, “Hm, _Noct_?”

Though Prompto initially concocted this plan to redefine Noct’s definition of “trouble,” he may have just redefined the color red for the whole group. Because Noct blushes so vividly that a new shade might have just been invented in the parking lot of the Crow’s Nest.

“Easy, lover-boy,” Gladio snorts, lips curling into a teasing grin. “If you want somethin' frilly to remember (y/n) by, then fine.” A flash of green and Gladdy knows he’s getting a disapproving glare from his bespectacled friend. The Shield sighs and rubs his hand over his face. “Ignis-”

“What? You scared, Specs?” Noct teases, finally finding his voice to try and drag Iggy. But Ignis Scientia don’t play that.

“Of course not. I’m against this whole affair because it’s _highly_ inappropriate.” Green eyes bore into the prince through the mirror. “And if you get caught? I’m sure (y/n) will have a very low opinion of you.”

“We’re gonna go with or without you,” Noct shrugs, putting on an air of indifference. Hell, if he didn’t want to go before, now he _has to_ purely on principle. “Besides,” he baits, “ _if_ we get caught, I doubt (y/n) will be happy to hear that you knew about it and let us go. So, it’d be in your best interest if we don’t get caught. Don’t want (y/n) having a _low opinion_ of you, do you?”

 _Seriously_? As if Ignis would fall for such obvious-

The engine starts and the Regalia is headed off to your home. Hook, line, and sinker.

Lately you’ve been having a hard time sleeping. It might be all the time you spend online or stress, you’re not too sure. Maybe a combination of both? Either way, you’re up until the wee hours of the morning most days. But the guys? They don’t know that. So when they pull up to your house and see the light on in your first floor window, they have to hastily devise a plan to _not_ get caught.

You’re watching a movie when you hear movement outside of the living room window. Three shadows pass by and you freeze. Should you pause the movie? No! The walls are about as thin as papier-mâché so if someone’s outside they would’ve already heard you in here, so the second you pause the film they’ll _know_ that _you know_ they’re there… Right?

Just to be safe, you’ve grabbed your mug of tea from the table (it’s hot _and_ heavy) and are headed to your back door to sneak a peek outside when you hear three very familiar voices. Ears strain and you press against the wall to listen.

“No! No! I think her room is on the second floor!”

“ _Shh_! She’s in the living room, moron. _Be quiet_.”

“Ugh. Get on my shoulders and shut the hell up.”

Wait. Is that…? Your doorbell suddenly rings. 

Steaming tea splashes against the floor and you swear under your breath, jumping out of the way of the molten droplets before rushing to the door. Though you already have a sneaking suspicion of who it might be, when you open your door at 12:15 a.m., you’re still shocked to find a very uncomfortable looking Ignis on your doorstep.

“Ignis?” You greet unsurely, looking around him to see the parked Regalia sans the others. Okay, what’s going on? You know there are three dorks in your backyard and one very awkward brunet on your doorstep. It’s highly unlikely that these guys are going to _rob_ you, so what’s the deal? It isn’t your birthday either, so a surprise party is out of the question. Unable to come up with an explanation yourself, you ask, “Did something happen?”

“Everything is all right, (y/n),” Iggy hastens to assure you, not wanting you stressed in the slightest. “I was merely in the area and it struck me that I never shared my risotto recipe with you. I remembered that you had asked for it.”

And like that, all of the tension melts away. This is a prank, isn’t it? Though you’re a little surprised that the others managed to rope too-mature-for-you Ignis into it, you’re kinda sure he’s just here for damage control, hence why he’s _here_ and not in your backyard.

“Uh-huh,” you lean against the doorframe and look at the brunet from hooded eyes, he flushes under your gaze but hides it well. “You came all the way over here past midnight to tell me how to make risotto. _Sure_. There’s this thing called a text message, Iggy. Groundbreaking technology, that.”

He’s about to respond when you hear a loud crash from upstairs followed by a screech of “Oh, _shit_!”

Ignis feels like he’s on fire under your intense gaze and all he can do is stand and watch as you turn on your heel and saunter back into your home to quickly ascend the steps to the second floor. He doesn’t bother trying to stop you. And he doesn’t follow, either. He doesn’t want to be anywhere _near_ you when you discover whatever chaos just went on upstairs. Iggy pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs.

Your bedroom door is thrown open to reveal Prompto trapped under your dresser, covered in all manner of undergarments. When he sees you, he immediately tries to hide in the pile of clothes and then remembers just _what_ he’s in and scrambles to distance himself from an especially lacy garment. Noct is frozen, one leg thrown over the windowsill, mid-escape to ditch his bro, steely blue eyes locked on you. He’s acting like you won’t see him as long as he doesn’t move. And Gladio? His hands are behind his back, a pair of underwear clenched in his fists. He clenches harder as if he can make the thing collapse into itself and simply cease to exist.  

“I know this is a stupid question, but what are you guys doing?” You slowly sip your tea, watching them from beneath your eyelashes.

“Wh-Why aren’t _you_ asleep?” Prompto counters, like this is a gotcha moment. If only he could see how ridiculous he looks right now.

You merely quirk a brow and reply, “If I had been, would this situation be better or worse?” With one hand you gesture around the room to make your point.

No one responds.

“This dresser is dangerous,” is all Gladio can say, struggling to suppress his shame.

“I don’t have any small children running around in my room so I didn’t see any need to anchor it to the wall,” you drawl. “Now I guess I have to.”

“Is everything all right?” Ignis calls from downstairs.

“Yup!” You call back before pinning Noct with a hard stare. “Use the front door, Noct. I don’t need you falling down.”

“Ye-Yeah,” the prince murmurs, casting his eyes downward in shame and then realizing that’s no better since there’s nothing but a pile of undies and an incapacitated Prompto on the floor.

Six, this was a _horrible_ idea.

After Prompto is rescued from the heavy dresser, you usher the guys out. They’re dead silent as they do the walk of shame out of your house. Each one is absolutely positive that you’re _never_ going to want to talk to them again. They violated your privacy and banged up your dresser. They’re halfway to the Regalia when you call out, “Oh, and Gladio?”

The Shield turns to you curiously, still looking abashed. “Yeah, (y/n)?”

You tilt your head and squint, fighting back a laugh. “That one’s a freebie for you guys.” He jolts when he realizes he’s still clutching a pair of your panties in his hand. The others stare at him as you shut the door with a teasing, “ _Good night_.”


End file.
